Passo Doble
by hobbitsdoitbetter
Summary: Rodney. Teyla. A carnivorous squirrel cult. What could possibly go wrong? Reposted due to technical difficulties. McTeyla UST and Schweir if ya squint...
1. Chapter 1

_Disclaimer: _This story is written for entertainment purposes only; no copyright infringement is intended

PASSO DOBLE CHAPTER ONE

_**Atlantis**_

"Take us through it in you own words Rodney."

Elizabeth Weir was staring at him over the rim of her coffee cup, wearing a determinedly straight face. To her left, Carson Beckett was doing the same, looking uncharacteristically grim in the process. And on the other side John Shepherd was struggling not to laugh. Rodney felt his face going red. He'd had trouble explaining this in his report, he saw no need to go through it again, but he suspected that this was payback for his stealing that last bit of coffee from the commissary three days ago. Elizabeth did _not_ like being without her caffeine…

"As I have already explained, Elizabeth, I went to planet P3X94 in order to examine a local piece of art which a certain _under-qualified party_," (he glared at Shepherd) "had assured me looked like a ZPM."

"Hey, it lit up when I walked by," Shepherd protested.

"Are you sure that wasn't the curator of the gallery? Because she sure as hell lit up the last time you were there too-"

"Sore loser," John muttered.

"Is your middle name Tiberius?" Rodney inquired sarcastically.

"Children!" Weir called. "You can pull each other's hair just as soon as we've finished the meeting." John stuck his tongue out ever so slightly at Rodney, earning a rebuking glance from Weir. This would've made the scientist feel much better if a second later she hadn't grinned as the colonel stuck out his tongue at _her_. He then grinned at Rodney, that annoying smirk which seemed to say "She likes me better." And they wondered how all those rumours got started…

"Since I am considered a valuable asset to this expedition," Rodney continued, glaring at John in a way that assured the colonel this tag could not be applied to him "I couldn't just walk around an alien planet on my own. Colonel Shepherd asked Teyla to keep an eye on me."

Weir widened her eyes in mock surprise. "I'm curious, Colonel: why didn't you stay with Doctor McKay? Given his important status?" Her eyes were wide and dancing. She knew damn well why John hadn't volunteered, but she wanted him to admit it. Rodney belatedly remembered why he'd always liked Elizabeth.

"Well, uh, I thought that I should try my hand at diplomacy, y'know, meet and greet, that sort of thing. Might mean I get into less fire-fights." Rodney had to admit, Bed-Head could think on his feet.

"But patching up the puddle-jumpers is nothing compared to trying to repair inter-stellar relations in your wake, Colonel. I would have thought you'd figured that out by now."

Again the smug smirk. "Have you had any complaints from our new trading partners?"

She grinned back, equally smug. "The day is young, Colonel."

John suddenly looked quite worried.

"But getting back to the order of business, can ye continue please Rodney?" Trust Carson to keep this up.

"I have some really pressing tests I should be doing-"

"RODNEY!" all three barked.

"Fine, if you're all going to gang up on me…" He cleared his throat. Damn, was it getting hotter in here? "Teyla was sent along with me to keep me out of trouble. Which she did. She just didn't expect the kind of trouble she got…"

_Four days previously_…

Teyla Emmagen rarely felt the need to question John Shepherd's leadership. She accepted that, out here in the field, she just had to trust him, and to be fair his judgement in these matters was seldom wrong. However, as her father had been fond of telling her when she was little, no leader is infallible. Everyone, no matter how good they are, makes mistakes. The problem is that those beneath that leader usually have to live with the consequences.

The consequences, in this instance, were tumbling through the bush behind her, making more noise than an armada of Wraith warships and complaining more than a gaggle of old women about his situation. Teyla knew Rodney McKay to be a brilliant scientist, and (though it appeared to often be against his better judgement) a reasonably brave man, when he had to be. It just seemed that his situation had to be truly dire before those more admirable qualities came through. Most of the time, he was what Carson Beckett called "a colossal pain in the arse." A pain in the arse, moreover, who was at the moment in her care.

The Athosian gritted her teeth and sighed softly to herself, trying to keep a lid on her temper. She'd been in such situations with McKay before, and probably would be again, and it would do her no good to give into her current inclinations and knock him unconscious. Besides, then she would have to carry him.

Overhead, the Firrine scout-ship which had been pursuing them for half an hour swooped lower, trying to get a clear shot at them through an upcoming patch in the tree-cover. Despite their reputation for being backwards and religiously intolerant, they apparently had a perfectly serviceable fleet of scout-ships; one would think that their unwillingness to embrace medical technology or the most rudimentary human rights for their men would mean they were backwards in the area of warfare too, but there one would be wrong. They had been pursuing both herself and Doctor McKay for the best part of two hours, and all because of a simple mishap. Rodney had apparently touched something which only the Holy Woman of the village was supposed to touch, a small statue in the shape of a sun-disc. The Canadian hadn't even been paying attention to the sacred object. He'd walked backwards into it, and then suddenly Teyla's peaceful day had descended into chaos. Before either of them knew it they had been running for dear life, and they had been running ever since.

She stood up suddenly, raising a hand to stop the scientist. Unfortunately McKay, so attentive to the slightest deviation between schematics and drawing when he was building something, apparently did not wish to bring such focus to their flight. He smacked headlong into her, knocking her sideways (how in the Ancestors' name had he managed to do that?). The pair tumbled head over heels down the slope to her side (the slope she had been so careful to avoid); fortunately their descent was stopped by the painful intervention of a large tree.

Teyla shook herself, carefully dislodging the undergrowth which had covered her. McKay was _still_ moaning. She squeezed her eyes shut, mentally repeating the Mantra of Serenity which every Athosian must learn in childhood, reminding herself that all life is sacred to the Ancestors and that violence makes slaves of us, not heroes. And that if she did shoot him, there would be a mountain of paperwork.

Teyla cocked her ear, listening carefully. Ahead, in the clearing she had just avoided, she could hear the tramp of feet. The Firinne pilot had apparently been skilful enough to land her craft. "I think this is broken," the Canadian was saying mournfully, holding up his power bar, apparently oblivious to the fact that he was talking loudly enough for John Shepherd to have heard him back in the city. Raising her eyes heavenward, too annoyed to even try and ask, Teyla stuck her hand tightly over his mouth, motioning in the direction of the Firinne with her eyes. Despite the indignant look on his face, he finally fell silent.

She looked around, unconsciously pulling him around by the face as she did so, searching for somewhere to hide, or at least a decent place to make a stand. The forest floor was damp and moist down here, and there were no dry leaves: at least they could move quietly. Before them stood a huge tree, at least the height of one of Atlantis' watch towers. At its base she could see a shadowy cavity. A cave! Teyla smiled to herself, silently thanking the Ancestors. They could hide in there, and even if the Firinne did follow them in (they did not appear to coming this way, but you could never be sure) she would have the elements of darkness and surprise on her side. Without even thinking (she didn't trust him enough to remove her hand) she dragged McKay towards the cave…

_**Atlantis**_

"I don't get what you're so upset about, Rodney, she just dragged you into a dark, cold place for your own protection," John interrupted. "There's plenty of men who wouldn't mind having Teyla do that to them."

Elizabeth rolled her eyes. "Be careful John, or I'll let slip what you just said. I don't think Teyla would be impressed."

"Yeah," Rodney nodded, "and it's not very nice of you to talk about her like that either, John. She's not just a lust object for every over-grown schoolboy in the city!" The other three officers exchanged surprised looks. That had been a little…vehement for Rodney. Especially since it didn't involve food or his own safety. Elizabeth found herself intrigued…

"So you went into the cave," she prompted, beginning to suspect that there was more going on here than she'd supposed. Of course, given the way John'd found him, she knew it had been far from run of the mill. It's not every day your head scientist is found wearing women's clothes and covered in jam…

Rodney sighed like a martyr. "So, we went in the cave…"

A/N Should I continue? Let me know…


	2. Chapter 2

_Disclaimer: _This story is written for entertainment purposes only; no copyright infringement is intended

CHAPTER TWO

_Three days, twenty two hours earlier_

"Are we there yet?" Rodney asked, stuffing his hands underneath his armpits to try and keep warm. When they'd high-tailed it he hadn't managed to grab his jacket. If he ever got a hold of the people who'd designed the science uniforms for the SGA he'd give them a sharp, pointed lecture on the necessity of warmth and the fact that silky and clingy didn't show everyone to their best advantage. None of which mattered at all because he was certain he never looked to his best advantage in a uniform. Sometimes he missed his civvies…

Ahead of him, Teyla was still doing her _Xena: Warrior Princess_ routine, her weapon drawn. She skulked like a pro' he thought wistfully. He knew she'd heard him but hadn't deigned to answer, and something told him that he shouldn't press his luck. He might get away with that with John, but not with her. She could, and he believed _would_, kick his ass if she thought it the slightest bit necessary. Rodney began to fidget, trying to figure out which pocket he'd left his spare (emergency) power bar in. He heard her sigh and immediately stopped.

"We shall make camp here for the night," she announced suddenly. He jumped at the loudness of her voice in the gloom, his hand going to his chest. _Muy Macho, McKay_ he thought sarcastically to himself. She turned to him and he hastily dropped his hand to his side, trying to cover it. Suave and debonair, he was not, however. She smiled a reassuring smile (which made Rodney feel about five years old) and gestured to the ground beneath her. "I believe they no longer follow us, but we shall stay here for the night, just to be safe. I will try to build a fire."

Something jogged at his memory. "Wait, there's no need-" He wished he'd remembered this before. At the gallery they'd managed to bargain for a small item which he knew was Ancient technology. John Shepherd's personal brand of diplomacy had persuaded the curator to part with the piece for a small fee and it was currently lodged in his back-pack._ That_ he hadn't left behind.

He hastily pulled out a small metallic box, which had the traditional Ancient symbol for fire on the lid. It was clearly a power source, and Rodney suspected it was a miniature version of the heating source for the city; access to it would allow him to do experiments he would never be able to do with the city's version. But right now what mattered was that he could get it to work.

He put the box down on the ground and knelt before it, concentrating as hard as he could. It was always annoying that John did this bit so much more easily than he did. But he was sure he could initialise the object. He closed his eyes, and suddenly he felt the whoosh he always associated with using Ancient technology. The box was emitting a warm glow, and mercifully, a pleasant amount of heat. He grinned up at Teyla, and an amused smile greeted him. "Thank you Doctor McKay."

"Always happy to help," he said, plonking himself down before the box. Belatedly remembering to be gracious he scooched over to give Teyla room to sit down. This she did, dropping her heavy backpack with a small, relieved sigh.

Silence.

Absolute silence.

Toe-curlingly embarrassing silence.

It was one of John Shepherd's unsung qualities that he could talk to anyone. Same (until he went all weird and stalkery) with Lieutenant Ford. But Rodney and Teyla? You couldn't have found two people on Atlantis with less to say to one another. And it was a long time before sunrise. Rodney found himself almost wishing someone would discover their whereabouts. Normally he's be happy to just sit there in a tower of magnificent silence (or rather, feeling tongue-tied and nervous, as he usually did around the military) but he couldn't do that with Teyla! He didn't feel he had to look down his nose at her; she was too damn nice. But at the same time, what on earth could he say that would interest a woman like that?

"Nice weather we're having." Youch, McKay, he thought, even for you that was lame.

"Yes, it was very sunny today. Before the frantic dash for our lives." The sad thing was, she wasn't even trying to be sarcastic. Another pause. "The weather here is often very changeable, I have noticed." Unconsciously a smile seemed to flit across her face. Rodney suppressed his annoyance, assuming she'd thought something about how lame he was. She looked up, and perhaps sensing what was going through his mind murmured "Please, I did not mean to be rude. The memory came to me quite unbidden."

"Uh, that's okay," he said in a tone which clearly sounded like it wasn't.

"I was just reminded of our time on P3X7448, when Colonel Shepherd found the Ancient device which allowed him to control the weather." A grin split her face. "Do you remember how he made it rain for four hours because I beat him at a game of, what did he call it?"

"Checkers," McKay supplied, his own smile matching hers. John had sworn ignorance, but they'd all known it was him. That was why he'd been allowed to get so wet.

"He is a strange man, John Shepherd. Sometimes I think he is more like a child than an adult." Again she smiled. "Though I have thought that about many men in my time."

"That's cos next to you and Liz, we all _seem_ like kids." Oops, Rodney thought, I didn't mean to say that out loud. Her eyes widened at him, and he began frantically back-pedalling. "I just mean that, uh, you and Liz, um I mean Doctor Weir, you're both so calm and collected all the time, and us men, well we're, we're-" Great, he was hyperventilating, _way to go, McKay_! "We just like playing with the gadgets in the city, and I suppose, it's really about gender relationships, though that's not my area of expertise-" What on earth was he doing? He didn't even babble like this around Sam Carter! "But, you know, women are supposed to be more peaceful and less aggressive…" His voice trailed off and he winced. Had he managed to miss out any clichés about female behaviour in there? Had he ticked all the boxes in the politically incorrect-athon?

She was laughing. "Please, Doctor McKay, do not be alarmed. I am not offended." She stretched out her legs and began pulling off her boots. "I have often seen how nervous men appear around me. The men of your expedition are far more courteous than some I have been forced to trade with." She pulled off her socks, and to Rodney's amazement began wiggling her toes in front of the heater. "The feeling will return to my extremities in time," she assured him.

"So," Rodney began, desperate to get as far away from their previous topic of conversation as possible, "Do you think we'll be able to get back to the city tomorrow?"

She nodded. "Despite his… distraction, I'm sure that Colonel Shepherd will eventually realise that we are missing. He did warn me that the religious dissidents might be a "little bit tetchy," about their artefacts being examined. And neither of us will be hard to find."

Rodney nodded, wondering suddenly how the hell they were going to sleep down here. He'd never complain about the accommodation to Teyla, but somehow he knew that this was going to be awkward. He just hoped he didn't do something stupid like kick her in his sleep. He might wake up a dead man if he did that…

"So we'll just tough it out."

She nodded. "Indeed. I will take the first watch."

Rodney made to protest and she laughed. "Doctor McKay, it is a relief that I can do my duty around your people without constantly being pressed to do less." He was obviously confused so she elaborated. "I prefer to be allowed to do my job. I am more than able. You may take the next shift," and she settled herself more comfortably, effectively cutting off his protests. Rodney knew it made him a total lady-man but he felt better with Teyla watching his back. At least she knew what she was doing.

It was surprising how quickly you could fall to sleep…

**_Atlantis_**

"Okay, first of all I did not make it rain for four hours just because Teyla beat me at checkers, McKay!" That was the important piece of information in all this? Liz thought. Teyla was right, they were all little boys.

"Yeah, tell it to the weatherman, Shepherd, we were all there and I saw her kick your ass, big time."

Liz rolled her eyes again. At least when Caldwell was around they _pretended _to be grownups. "I'm curious, Rodney," she interrupted, determined not to let them stray off the point. "Why didn't you use your comms to get in touch with Colonel Shepherd and advise him of your status?"

"Because Captain Kirk over there neglected to mention that the technology hating luddites he'd sent me to can listen in on communications. Left that teeny tiny piece of information out. Teyla had to catch one of them tampering with her radio before we realised how much trouble we were in."

"Well, that's just another example of the lack of moral integrity in religious leaders today," John began. "They say that technology is the devil's candy but they're all closet Radio Shack freaks."

Liz cocked her head at him.

John at least had the good grace to look embarrassed. And stop talking.

"So, you couldn't get in touch with Colonel Shepherd, I get that. But you were safe in the cave: how did you get taken back into custody?" Liz stapled her fingers and looked over them at McKay. Surely this was the really juicy part of the story?

There was no getting around it.

"Well, y'know Elizabeth, a man has wants and needs. And I did have a lot of water that day, because Carson kept complaining" (this drew a "Tcha!" from Beckett worthy of a high school cheer-leader) "about us all coming back from off-world dehydrated. And it was really dark in that cave. And in the dark, well a man can get turned around…" He trailed off.

"Even the smartest man in Atlantis?" Shepherd snorted.

"Hey John, what's the weather report for tomorrow?"

_Three days, sixteen hours earlier_

How in the Ancients' name did he manage to sneak off so quietly now, when he could hardly move above-ground without making enough noise to raise an army? Teyla thought. She knew he was gifted, but not _that_ gifted. He'd made some noise about needing privacy and she wisely hadn't pressed him, having learned early on in her time with the SGA what exactly that euphemism meant. But he'd been gone nearly half an hour and she'd begun to get worried. Maybe the cave structure was unsound and he had fallen through the floor. Maybe some wild creature was stalking through the darkness and at that very moment the scientist was being eaten alive. That would be an unpleasant eventuality…

Teyla sighed, knowing that she would have to go after him. It was simply too much of a risk to leave him out there alone. And besides, she didn't really want him to die. Well, she mostly didn't want him to…

_At about the same time…_

There were some things that were against all laws of god and man, some actions which were just so heinous that Rodney couldn't believe any civilisation could ever countenance them. One of those things, Rodney thought indignantly, was the humiliating practice of sneaking up on a man when he was _otherwise engaged_ and drawing a large weapon. Especially if one was a female Firinne security guard who had just spent several hours chasing someone through the undergrowth. It was just…unmannerly. And what the hell was a man supposed to do when he was told to put his hands in the air in that situation? I mean, one way or another he thought, you're making something of a social faux pas. But then marauding aliens never seem to think of those things.

The female security guard prodded him ahead of her with her weapon, a long thin pick-like object which wouldn't have looked out of place on an old episode of Star Trek. In face, both she and her companion bore more than a passing resemblance to Klingons, he thought sourly, with their large armour-padded jerkins and frizzy hair. He felt like he was in the middle of an intergalactic Motorhead tour… "Easy there, Lemmy," he muttered, rubbing gingerly at his shoulder. He was rewarded for this (how could she even be sure she's been insulted? He wondered angrily) with another, harder blow to his ribs. He doubled over, the wind knocked out of him, the familiar feeling of embarrassed rage and helplessness welling up within him. No matter how smart he became, or how far he went across the galaxy, when it came right down to it he was still being stuffed in lockers by the jocks of the universe. And he was such a wuss a lady jock was doing it to him.

His pity party was not stopped by the fact that this was the moment Teyla chose to strike. She had apparently been in the shadows for a couple of minutes, watching them to ascertain their numbers (where the hell did she learn to do that? Was it, like, an exercise in Sunday school if you were Athosian? Anti-terrorism 101?). She rushed forward, her weapon raised and Rodney felt a surge of triumph (he may even have said "Yay!") as Lemmy crumpled under the attack, her weapon rolling out of her hand. She made a grab for it and Rodney kicked it out of reach, tripping himself in the process. As his ass hit the ground his foot smacked off the weapon again, sending it careening towards Lemmy's accomplice.

He caught it.

For a split second Teyla just stared at her companion, the expression on her face clearly indicating that she was thinking of shooting him. He wondered whether she'd been taking "death glare," lessons from Elizabeth; but no, Teyla struck him as the type to whom the death glare came naturally. Rodney did the only thing he could do: the glared back, daring her to say anything. And then the shot rang out, hitting Teyla full in the chest, and she fell to the ground. McKay called for her, praying that these aliens were the type who liked to capture you, bring you back to their village and torture you before they killed you (the better to give you a chance to escape) because if they weren't then not only was he soon to be very, very dead, but Teyla had just lost her life because of his stupid mistake.

Lemmy grinned down at Teyla and flicked her onto her back with her toe. She wouldn't've looked so cocky if Teyla were conscious, Rodney thought darkly. The Firinne looked over at him and grinned. "Your woman doesn't take very good care of you, does she?"

Rodney was so furious he couldn't bring himself to correct her terminology. "You got lucky," he spit through gritted teeth.

"Of course I did," she said mockingly. He heard the sound of the weapon being cocked, and felt a sudden burning in his chest where it struck. Then there was only blackness.

_**Atlantis**_

"Boring!" John chimed, his chin on his hand. The table at large blinked at him. "Oh puh-lease, that happens to my team every other week!"

Rodney took this opportunity to shoot Elizabeth a "see what I have to put up with?" glare.

Carson cleared his throat, worried that if he began to even examine that statement he'd end up ranting for a week. "But Rodney, John…well he doesn't have a point, but he _is_ right." ("The English language wasn't designed to deal with John Shepherd's effect upon the universe, Elizabeth," was how he would later explain this grammatical travesty). "You deal with situations like this regularly and you don't end up, ahem… quite so-"

"Abused?" McKay inquired snippily.

"-Dishevelled, is the word I would have used, son." The Scotsman lowered his voice confidentially. "We're all friends here, Rodney. You can tell us everything, you know."

The scientist raked his fingers through his (thanks to Atlantis) rapidly thinning hair. "Believe me, Carson, I'm not leaving anything out. And I'm aware that due to certain personnel requirements," (he shot Shepherd another death glare) "my adventure so far is actually, for Pegasus, quite humdrum. It didn't stay that way however."

"What happened?" Carson asked.

"Well, if you'd all stop interrupting I'd tell you!" he shot back. "I mean, you could pretend to have been worried about Teyla at least!"

"We were," Elizabeth soothed, once again wondering at the normally solipsistic doctor's attitude change towards the Athosian. "But she's out of the Infirmary now Rodney: we know she's fine." That seemed to calm him. "Now the sooner you get this over with, the sooner you get to leave. So there'll be no more interruptions, alright?" This she levelled at her two colleagues.

"Boy Scout honour," John nodded, holding up his two fingers in mock salute. Funny, Rodney thought, he had two fingers of his own he wouldn't have minded showing Shepherd.

"So," Liz prompted coaxingly "You'd been knocked unconscious. What do you remember next?"

"Well, next thing I woke up in Sunnydale…"

A/N Are you enjoying it? Let a girl know…


	3. Chapter 3

_Disclaimer: _This story is written for entertainment purposes only; no copyright infringement is intended

CHAPTER THREE

_Two Days, Three Hours Ago_

Teyla opened her eyes slowly, unable to stifle the groan which escaped her lips. She was lying face down on a straw-covered floor. She went to move and heard a familiar voice. This couldn't be the afterlife, she told herself slightly desperately: the Ancestors didn't hate her enough to make her spend eternity looking after Rodney McKay, surely?

Rodney was sitting up, manacled to the wall on her right by both wrists.

"Are you alright, Doctor McKay?" she forced through sore, bloodied lips, hoping he would at least make the whining session brief. Whatever weapon they'd hit her with had left her feeling like she'd taken on a Wraith hive-ship on her own and lost. Her head was swimming and the Canadian was shifting in and out of focus before her eyes. When he didn't respond, she repeated herself, more loudly.

He jumped, and then a surprisingly relieved smile split his face. "Teyla, thank god you're all right!" he stage-whispered, trying (belatedly) to be stealthy. "Sorry, I'm just having a Daniel Jackson flashback," he muttered, holding up his manacled wrists by way of explanation. (Teyla sometimes wondered whether the men of Atlantis had some kind of secret language they spoke only to each other, and occasionally lapsed into around her. There were times when she didn't understand a word they said). Perhaps realising he'd slipped accidentally into Man-Speak, (or that his statement, if said in front of Shepherd, would have led to every sort of insinuation possible) his smile turned apologetic. "They brought you in about half an hour ago, so they must want to start soon."

"Start..?" Teyla inquired, trying to concentrate on the scientist while forcing herself into a sitting position.

"Uh, yeah, they… They want to try you."

She couldn't have heard that right. "They want to try _me_?"

McKay nodded, wincing the way Beckett did when he had to give you a really painful injection. "Uh, yeah, well y'see, men can't be tried in their culture; we have no civil rights, and the Great Goddess teaches" (at this she could hear the testiness in his voice) "that the male of the species is like a child or lower animal: they can't really be held accountable for their actions because they're too dumb to understand them. So the womenfolk are responsible for them. They can't vote or own land or do anything unless a wife or female relative tells 'em to. And if, heaven forbid, one of them breaks the law, then the female relative is held responsible for the (in this case) completely unintended, absolutely harmless, somewhat life-threatening transgression…" His voice trailed off. "Did I mention I was sorry?"

Teyla closed her eyes and counted to ten. It wasn't his fault, she reminded herself. The Firinne were being completely unreasonable, and they were treating half their population in a ridiculously tyrannical manner.

You should have shot him, a tiny voice whispered in her head.

At that moment the door of their cell sprang open, and the female who had shot her in the cave strutted in, a gloating smile on her face. Teyla resisted the urge to punch her in the jaw.

"Ah you are awake," the newcomer cooed. "Then the Great Court can begin. I will inform them right now." She nodded dismissively to one of her underlings. She knelt down beside the Athosian, leaning her head over her and leering. "I hope that he was worth it: sharing your bed with an imbecile will cost you your life."

"Hey!" Rodney protested "I am _not_ an imbecile!" Teyla shot him a look. "And the important thing is that I've never shared a bed with this woman! So you should just try me and leave her out of it!" Nice recovery, she thought to herself. "It wasn't Teyla's fault that I touched the statue-"

"It was "Teyla's" fault if she permitted one of her men out in the world without her supervision. Everyone knows that men cannot be left to their own devices: look what happened when she left you to yours."

That statement was annoying because Teyla knew she had a point.

McKay seemed to think so too. "Look, I'm the one who screwed up. Just let her go back to our friends and I'll take whatever punishment you come up with. Just don't make her pay for my mistakes." He muttered something inaudible.

"What was that?" the guard snapped.

McKay sighed like a martyr. "I said please," he admitted sulkily.

""Please"?"

"Yeah, please. And I don't like saying it, so don't make me say it again, ok?"

Despite herself, Teyla smiled.

Before the argument could continue, the recently dismissed underling poked her head around the cell door. "The Great Court is convened. The Mighty Poongat has been brought, the Goddess protect her, and all is in readiness in the fair hall. The Unclean must depart." Without another word the guard pulled out a blindfold and covered McKay's eyes. Then, despite Teyla's protests, she covered hers too. They were unchained and roughly pulled to their feet before being forced to walk. Led like animals they were harried through one corridor after another, until Teyla felt heat on her skin. They were at the court.

The light was blinding when they removed the blindfolds. She and McKay stood in front of a huge room with a completely glass ceiling, through which golden sunlight fell in searing brightness. The space was circular, and surrounded almost totally by stands, almost like the sports stadium she had seen in Shepherd's bewildering "Hail Mary," football game. As her eyes began to adjust to the light Teyla stood up straighter, her chin in the air, glowering defiantly at the people who had brought her here. So intent was she on staring them down that it took her a moment to realise there were no people in the room.

The stands, the raised seat before her, all were devoid of human life. Staring at her and McKay was the largest collection of stuffed animals she had ever seen. The "court," was made up entirely of stuffed squirrels. And in the Judge's box sat the largest, mouldiest, most moth-eaten squirrel of them all.

"You have got to be kidding me," McKay muttered.

**_Atlantis_**

"Stuffed squirrels? Stuffed goddamn squirrels?"

"John!" Elizabeth chided.

"STUFFED GODDAM SQUIRRELS?"

"Yes John," Rodney snapped, "Stuffed Goddamn Squirrels. That's what I said."

"Why the hell did they have a court made up of stuffed squirrels?"

"How the hell should I know?" Rodney exploded. "I had to defend my life, and Teyla's, to Mopsy the Afterlife Nut-Eater, and I _still_ don't know why the court was made up of dead animals. Maybe they're big into their surrealist art, Shepherd, or maybe they just have a really sick sense of humour. Or maybe the squirrel, as far as they're concerned, is the pinnacle of evolution's creative genius and we're all just dust in its wake. _I don't know!_."

"Rodney- " Elizabeth tried to intervene.

"And you know what the sick thing is?" he continued, on a roll now. "I was supposed to go with Peterson's team to PX55616, to the planet where there is nothing but sandy beaches and waterfalls, and where did I go instead? To Twin Peaks World, where they arrest people for no reason, and chase you through caves in the dark and then try you using dead animals! My name is not Fox Mulder, people, and that is not my idea of a good time!"

"Rodney, calm down!" Liz snapped, her voice like a whip-crack. Suddenly every man at the table remembered why she was the boss of Atlantis and not them.

The Canadian seemed to recollect himself. "Sorry," he muttered, chagrined.

"It's quite alright. Obviously this was very difficult for you." When all this was over, Elizabeth made a mental note to have a quiet chat with Rodney on his own. Something about this was really bothering him, and she knew she wouldn't get it out of him while the other two were around. "And everyone will refrain from interrupting you until you're finished, alright?"

"What are you looking at me for?" Shepherd protested.

"Alright?" she repeated, unmoved.

"Fine," John pouted, obviously feeling put upon.

"Please continue, Rodney. What happened next?"

_Two Days, One Hour and oh, about Forty five Seconds Ago…_

The LAPD would've loved this court, Rodney thought desperately. There were no lawyers, no juries; they hadn't even had to state their name. They had simply been brought before the "Poongat," (who would have thought that giant, moth-eaten stuffed squirrels could be the stuff of nightmares? He thought desperately) smacked behind the knees until they bowed, and then after a grand total of forty five seconds deliberation Lemmy had leaned in as if listening to a soft voice. McKay wasn't sure whether it was more disturbing that the alien thought the stuffed corpse could talk to her, or the sudden panicked idea that maybe the corpse actually_ was_ talking to her. Either way, it was a less than joyful day in Rodney Land…

"Guilty!" Lemmy exclaimed when she had finished her little tete-a-squirrel. Going by the smile on her face, you'd think she'd won a week for two in the Bahamas, he thought.

"But we have not even been asked to defend ourselves!" Teyla exclaimed. Rodney could understand why: it was her ass on the line and not his, after all…

"That does not matter: the Poongat has spoken, praises be heaped upon her name!" She nodded to the guards, who pulled the Atlanteans to their feet. "You will die at first light tomorrow, at the Temple of the Sacred Poongat. Then your imbecile will be locked away in a home for unreformed criminals, to prevent him from causing any more damage to himself or anyone else." She bowed her head. "The Poongat be praised."

"No it damn well won't!" Rodney yelled. "You can't execute Teyla! There has to be something else, some other punishment- Hey, how about you let her go and I'll stay and fix stuff for ya?" The surprisingly-chipper –under-stress-approach always worked for Shepherd. "You must have some other Ancient technology around here, I could be very useful if you want to get it to work- "

"Imbecile, you would cause far more trouble than you could possibly solve!"

"I am not an imbecile; you are if you think that killing an innocent woman over one stupid mistake can ever be defended!" He really was getting himself worked up. He wasn't used to panicking on other people's behalf, and it felt fifty percent terrific and fifty percent terrifying.

"You should have gone through the Rite of Cessation, that would have stilled your blood before you would ever attempt to raise your voice to your superiors!"

Rodney managed what he felt sure was the single most sarcastic laugh in the history of sarcasm-

"This rite, what does it involve?" Teyla asked suddenly, one hand on the scientist's chest to keep him from throwing himself bodily at the captor, both eyes fixed firmly on the other woman.

"Every boy-child, to become a man must go through the Rite of Cessation, when he ceases to be a person and becomes a husband. It usually happens in the thirteenth year." She looked the scientist up and down from head to foot, obviously unimpressed. "He could not have gone through it, or else he would have more respect for those around him."

"He has more than enough respect for me," Teyla said quietly. "But," and she raised her head up, looking Lemmy straight in the eye "I would like him to go through this initiation before you kill me, just so that I know that he will not be a burden on others once I am gone." She turned to glare soberly at Rodney. "You should learn some manners, McKay!"

"I thought you said that he was not your man?" The woman asked slyly.

"Would you admit to owning him?" Teyla countered, squeezing on Rodney's shoulder to prevent his protests.

Apparently she was convincing, because the Firrinne nodded understandingly. "It can be done, we can let you watch."

"Em, what does this involve?" Rodney asked in a tiny, quite scared voice. Once you've been tried by a court of squirrels, anything seemed possible.

"We will bring you to the woods before your execution, allow you to watch the spectacle for yourself." Lemmy was smiling at Teyla like they were old drinking buddies, he thought indignantly.

"Hello? What exactly does this involve?" he repeated. He resisted the urge to stamp his feet to get their attention.

"You must pass through womanhood to get to husbandhood," Lemmy intoned. There were far too many painful interpretations of those words for Rodney's liking. "You will taste the sweetness of youth, then the hardship of adulthood, and then the fire will be drained from you and you will be docile once and for all."

Rodney swore he heard Teyla snort "I do not think so," but when he looked at her she was sober as a preacher on Sunday. God he hoped she was working on a getaway plan, and not just on a last ditch bit of revenge for his having gotten her into this…

Rodney McKay closed his eyes tightly, and asked one of the few questions he could safely say he'd never expected to ask. "How exactly do I become a woman?"

**_Atlantis_**

"They didn't!"

"She didn't!"

"You didn't!"

Rodney looked like he would very much have liked to curl up in a ball and die then and there. Instead of answering them, he muttered something inaudible and looked away.

To Elizabeth, it sounded suspiciously like "I want my blankie."

A/N You likee? You know what to do…


	4. Chapter 4

_Disclaimer: _This story is written for entertainment purposes only; no copyright infringement is intended.

And for those who guessed, yes I watch "Scrubs,"...

PASSO DOBLE CHAPTER FOUR

_Exactly two days ago_

The sun split palely through the trees, turning everything bloody and golden as Rodney, Teyla and a group of Firinne women who looked disconcertingly like the villagers at the end of "Frankenstein," walked solemnly towards the Temple of the Sacred Poongat. Despite his better judgement, Rodney felt terrible. He knew that if it wasn't for him then Teyla would ever have gotten into this mess in the first place. It was different when he got John into trouble: Shepherd had an instinctive nose for it and no matter what happened, Rodney was always certain that given half the chance John would have gotten himself into worse mischief on his own. But Teyla? Teyla was _competent_. She could've gone through her entire life without meeting with the difficulties which had now become routine for her. And it was this knowledge that kept Rodney's head down, unwilling and unable to look up.

Of course, the tiara which sat on his head, looking like a chandelier and weighing more than a satellite, didn't help matters.

Neither did the floor-length evening gown they'd given him (and hadn't it been thoughtful of Lemmy to select something which would bring out the blue in his eyes?)

The real killer though, he had to admit, was the heels. The heels and the jam, which were working in unison against him, causing his feet to slide uncomfortably about. Of course, he'd been relieved that "Moving through womanhood," hadn't meant becoming a eunuch, but really, the "sweetness of youth," thing with the jam? Way too literal for his liking…

He couldn't walk in this get up. He'd never _had_ to walk in this get-up (since, mysteriously, the ability to glide about like Ginger Rogers wasn't considered necessary to get you a job at Area 51) before now. He just hoped, really hoped, that Teyla was working on a plan to get him out of this, and not just dishing up a bit of last minute revenge…

As if she'd heard his thoughts, the Athosian appeared beside him, having abandoned Lemmy with many laughs and jokes. In fact, the two appeared to be getting on famously, though a closer look at Teyla showed that she hadn't slept well, despite the nicer cell she'd been given for her last night.

"Doctor McKay," she said softly, trying not to draw attention. Rodney would have turned to look at her but he wasn't afraid if he took his attention from the high-heels for a moment then he'd fall. "I have come up with a plan for our escape. But it will rely upon you providing a distraction."

That got his attention. "This isn't distraction enough?" he snapped, trying to keep his voice down.

A small smile tugged at the corner of her mouth. "I am reliably informed by Doctor Weir that such shoes flatter the shape of the leg."

"Well they don't flatter the shape of my legs!"

Teyla sighed, raising her eyes heavenwards. "Doctor McKay! I know that you are uncomfortable, and I know that you are frightened, but I have, at great personal cost, managed to arrange an escape route and if I have to personally put you across my shoulders and carry you we are taking it!" She blew out air through her lips, trying to calm down. "The puddle-jumper is less than two clicks from here, shielded. Once the ceremony begins I will flee, heading due east until I find it. I will then come back here and pick you up. I just need you to distract them until then."

"But, even if they do catch me, you and John can stage a rescue mission and beam me up from orbit, right? Right?"

"I have seen you run, McKay, when you have to. I do not believe that keeping ahead of the women will be a problem."

He knew that look. "Then what will?"

"Keeping ahead of them."

Rodney looked up in the direction she indicated and felt the blood drain from his face.

The Temple of the Sacred Poongat was now visible, ancient and beautiful in the failing early morning light. And standing on its porches in groups of threes and fours were the Poongats themselves. About twenty giant, living squirrels stood eyeing Rodney with a look which quite clearly said "Lunch." The scientist felt quite sure that just for a moment his heart actually physically stopped beating. And just when he thought it couldn't possible get any more disturbing, he heard something else.

The humming of bees. The angry, irritated, we're gonna get you Canadian sucka buzzing of what sounded like an entire hive of bees.

"Does anyone ever survive this ceremony?" he whispered, horrified.

"Do you wish to stay and find out?" Teyla countered.

"I knew I was wearing the red Star Trek jersey!" he yelled and took off through the undergrowth, the angry little beasties already gaining on him.

"HELP!" he screamed loudly "HEEEELLP!"

_That's right McKay; yell really loudly so the Satan squirrels will come to **you**_.

What would John do in this situation? He thought desperately. John would never get himself into this situation! He'd have seduced Lemmy by now and even if he couldn't they'd never have gotten him into the forest without that damned hair getting snarled up in the trees' branches! The first thing he did was stop and throw the shoes at them, a useless tactic which nevertheless made him feel strangely better. Then he was off, thundering through the undergrowth, the angry twittering if the squirrels behind him (and when the hell did squirrels learn to hunt in packs? It was like Sam Raimi had designed a Disneyland ride…) He jumped, scrambled, ran, swearing to himself and desperately trying not to think about what would happen if they got hold of him. The bees were already ahead of him, but the density of the forest cover seemed to be working against them. Not so the squirrels however, who were already scampering from branch to branch above him

One, the biggest, meanest looking mammal Rodney had ever seen, jumped down suddenly in front of him, swiping viciously with its claw-lined paw as it did so. Rodney ducked, managing to block it, and the thing showed a mouthful of cute, blood-stained teeth. It swiped again, harder this time, and Rodney felt a sudden sharp pain in his side. He looked down to see blood showing through the dark magenta of his gown. The thing struck again, gouging into his side more deeply this time, and he doubled over, knowing this was serious, knowing this was final…

So this was how the great Rodney McKay dies, he thought mournfully: hunted and eaten by a pack of giant, carnivorous squirrels…

The world seemed to slow down. He could hear his own breathing, hear how laboured and shallow it had become. The poongat took another swipe, this time burying its claws further into his side, and Rodney felt his knees go out from under him. His breath felt like a ghost in his chest and somehow he knew, when he went down this time he wouldn't get back up…

"Stay away from him, you bitch!" Rodney looked up to see Teyla Emmagen jumping from the puddle-jumper (doubtless piloted by John Shepherd), her fighting sticks in one hand, and a gun in the other. He was safe! He was free!

He was unconscious!

The last thing he remembered thinking (though not saying, which was just as well) was "My hero."

A/N The next chapter should be the last. Look at the review button: listen to its siren song…


	5. Chapter 5

_Disclaimer: _This story is written for entertainment purposes only; no copyright infringement is intended.

Thanks to everyone who reviewed, I'm glad you liked it. Hopefully the squirrel phobia won't be permanent. And here it is, the last chapter. Served up with what's left of Rodney's dignity…

PASSO DOBLE CHAPTER FIVE

_**Atlantis**_

"Well say something!" Rodney was looking at his hands, his fingernails, anywhere but at his colleagues. They were sitting, open-mouthed. If this hadn't been so emotionally scarring he might have thought it was funny.

"Yes, well, I think that covers everything," Elizabeth began, making a rather unnecessary show of shuffling her papers. "Thank you for your candour in this matter Doctor McKay; I'm sure we can all put this behind us now. And I'm sure we all have others things to do." Taking the hint, John and Carson stood up and began to wander out. Before they did, she distinctly heard John mutter that he wouldn't have seduced Lemmy, though whether this was said for her benefit or Carson's, she couldn't be certain. As soon as they were out of earshot though, she put a hand on Rodney's arm.

"I'm sorry about that Rodney: I didn't realise how hard it had been for you: when Teyla came and debriefed me she said that you'd acquitted yourself excellently, so I didn't think that it could've been that bad for you…"

His head snapped up. "You talked to Teyla?"

"Yes, of course. She debriefed me when she got out of the Infirmary."

"Oh, so… Oh well, then you're happy enough with the- What did she say?"

Elizabeth couldn't help the small smile which tugged at her lips. "She said she was very impressed. How was it she put it? "It is more impressive when someone who is not a warrior tries anyway, then when a great warrior succeeds.""

Rodney looked thunderstruck, which made the urge to laugh worse. "Huh," was all he could manage.

"She did suggest, however, that you take some kind of self-defence training. Which, considering that you work with John Shepherd, might not be a bad idea. I think it's a case of better safe than sorry."

"I'm already sorry," he zinged back, but his mind was clearly distracted. "She really said that? Teyla really said that?"

This time the smile became an outright grin. "Yes Rodney, she really said that. Perhaps you should go and ask her, since you seem so unsure of it."

Again, "Huh."

"That's an order, go talk to her Rodney." She watched with great amusement as her chief science officer shuffled out, looking distinctly like he'd been struck by lightning.

Elizabeth would bet her entire Ladies' Poker Night winnings that the Atlantis rumour mill was about to get another fixture.

After all, someone had to give her and John a run for their money…

_**Passo doble**:(n) Literally "double step," a dance or sequence of movements designed for two partners_

Tap, tap, BANG! A sharp downward stroke, an attempt to use his weight against him. He nearly falls over but manages to right himself and push back, not through anything resembling skill, he tells himself, but through luck. He talks to her while he does this, not trying to distract her, but trying to communicate in the only way he knows how. "How the hell did you manage to do that?"

"How in the Ancients' name do you walk upright when your balance is so terrible?"

"My balance works just fine, I just don't normally have to try holding up nine stone of Athosian womanhood!"

"Then you should not let me pin you!"

"I don't _let_ you do anything!"

"Which is exactly my point!"

People laughed, made jokes, when it first started. Ronon got a sharp cuff around the ear for saying something embarrassing about it in the canteen which caused McKay to blush and snap. But Teyla honestly couldn't care. He tried to apologise about what happened with the Firinne; she pointed out that were John Shepherd required to apologise every time he put her in danger then they would never be out of earshot of one another. He asked her to teach him, in itself tremendously difficult for him to do. And she had no regrets about agreeing to it. He was no natural fighter with weapons, (though he knew how to use words in that way, and in that way alone), but he was a fighter in the way she was. He never gave up when he put his mind to it.

Whack! He lands on his back, winded; looks up at her for a moment, as if hurt but then rights himself and shakes the stress out of his shoulders. "I'll be black and blue tomorrow," he mutters, but resumes his stance. The sticks fly, backwards and forwards, like the words.

This he can do.

This she can teach him.

The steps of this dance were designed for two.

Squirrels notwithstanding.

So, did you enjoy? You know you want to tell me that you did…


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